If a forensics expert or a detective ever need to find out what type of person I am, they will have to look no further than under my car seat. There lies my life with the wreckage and carnage of fast food restaurants and office supplies. It is the place where old French fries live out their remaining days, packets of hot sauce and ketchup can age gracefully and ball point pens can always have home. The forensic expert will know right off I am not a tidy man or even the tidy bowl man who seems very dapper in those TV commercials. The detective will know I am careless with my belongings and in fact have a blatant disregard for hair combs. The smorgasbord of fast food remnants can say two things; I am single man with no intention in packing a nutritious lunch or a ravenous slob who eats with unbridled joy. Okay I am a slob but not a glutton, and I admit I haven’t mastered the art of eating and driving simultaneously.
I was driving by one of those fancy smancy car wash joints the other day, you know the ones where you can get a decaf vanilla latte along with jasmine air freshener. The traffic jam of cars waiting in line must of happened because there could be a new coupon for free wheel dressing or maybe the vacuum cleaners were overrun with dog hair. I know my car was filthy and much lived in due to the driving aspect of my job. The accumulation of my life's waste and debris in the car was something that I needed to get a handle on. My wife suggested a tent needed to be put over my car and fumigated, then a hazmat crew needed to come in and sugically clean it out.
I agreed to tackle the job the job myself after seeing the line at the car wash. It’s a gift boutique and coffee shop disguised a car wash to entice the fringe customer. Who is the fringe customer, and who needs a vanilla latté and some artwork when they go there. I felt it was time I broke out the car wash super package of cleaners that I received for Christmas a couple of years ago. There are cleaners and brushes for all parts of car for a complete makeover. Now I know why people wait in line for hour to get their vehicle pampered at the hoity-toity car wash joint. It took me five hours to get my car clean enough to reach the level of cleanliness that the vanilla latte car wash would perform. I can't say it was fun or even resembled any form of pleasure. They say cleanliness is next to Godliness or vice versa.
I say having a clean car is overrated because I love to eat French Fries right after getting them from the drive through window. So of those fries will find a place in my car that when discovered will bring back fond memories of our time to together.